


Silent Waves

by RosyMiz



Series: JhinSona Stories [5]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bounty Hunter Jhin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Pirate AU, Pirate Jhin, Siren Sona, mermaid au, siren au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-09-27 01:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosyMiz/pseuds/RosyMiz
Summary: Offering her circle of sirens to scope out the area where the scent of blood is coming from, Sona ends up captured by a bounty hunter, Khada Jhin, after her quick investigation backfires. Sona then finds herself trapped in a tank in his quarters with her etwahl fallen into his hands. Now with nothing but silence, she needs to find a way back home. With the ship heading to Zaun, her time's running out.





	1. Drops of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> A siren Sona and bounty hunter/pirate Jhin AU story! I hope you enjoy the story because I think it may be about the same length or longer than Beyond the Depths! We'll see how far my inspiration takes me!

Songs have power within their melodies. Some say it’s like magic, that it has the power to soothe the soul of its worries and troubles. Many would agree. While there is truth within those words, it is merely one side of the same coin.

“Out! All of you!” a voice calls out through the wooden hallway, each step heavy with panic. 

Songs have power within their melodies. 

“What?” Sailors perk up from their cots in a daze, not registering the frantic rocking of the ship. “W-what’s going on?”

But its power isn’t limited to soothing those who are troubled.

“We’re under attack!” another yells before the ship heaves onto its side, throwing panicked sailors overboard into whirlpools. Seawater begins to fill the ship as it sinks under the waves. The sailors fortunate enough to swim out lay their eyes upon the wreckage floating among the sharp rocks. 

Just what happened? There was no storm to cause this. Was it bad navigation?

Songs naturally have the power to attract anything with a heart.

“Hey, do you hear that?” a sailor asks in between coughs. “Music.”

Two sailors who had escaped alongside him exchange glances and listen. He was right. Though faint, they could hear music playing from a cave up ahead. It sounds like someone singing. The other survivors seem to hear it as well. They swim towards the cave, seeing a figure sitting on top of a rock lit by the sunlight above.

A woman. They don’t hesitate in getting closer, wondering if she was stranded. But one sailor, notably younger than the other two, doesn’t move from where he is. He feels something is wrong. He opens his mouth to warn the others, but his words are lost to the seawater that fills his lungs. 

Songs can lure unsuspecting prey by seeping into their hearts, their innermost desires and insecurities laid bare.

He struggles against something that’s pulling him under. It feels like a hand around his ankle. A cold, scaly hand. He sees colors of green, blue, purple and more glimmering under the water. For a moment, he thinks them beautiful. Then his vision fades to black as he runs out of air.

His hearing is the last to go before his imminent death. He hears a melody as clear as day. No words, no voice. Just a melody that puts him at ease as the sea welcomes another victim into its arms.

* * *

“Captain,” a voice gravely calls from behind a door. “They’re here.”

“Are they now?” In the far corner of the captain’s quarters by the window sits a man polishing an ivory white gun on his desk. One. Two. Three. Four. Four wipes, that’ll do the trick. “Stubborn bunch, aren’t they?”

“We’re holding them back as best as we can, but they’re being impatient.”

“Anyone dead?” the captain asks. 

“Not yet, sir.”

The captain clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Shame,” he responds as he stands up. “I suppose I’m ready to meet them. Tell them I’m on my way.” He hears the sailor run up the stairs after a curt salute. He folds up his sleeve into a neat roll and holsters his gun. Slipping on a leather mask that covers the lower half of his face, he squints with a glint in his eyes. “Time for a little show.”

“Where is he?” a burly, bearded man barks at the men blocking the entrance of the ship.

“Sir, he’ll be right out.”

“You expect me to wait any longer when  _ he’s _ the one who suggested this damn rendezvous? Near Demacia of all places?”

“Sir—”

The sound of clapping coming from the side catches their attention. “Gentleman, gentleman, no need to rush,” the captain says as he approaches the burly man. “Captain,” he greets, before the barrel of a gun is pointed at his head.

“Khada Jhin,” the man sneers. “Did you really think you can get away with the bounty all by yourself?” His eyes narrow as he gets closer to Jhin. “We made a deal, and you broke it.” He pulls back the hammer of his gun. “You wanna know what I do to traitors?”

Such a boorish man, Jhin muses. But he does not look fazed from the gun practically pressed against his forehead. He gazes into the other’s eyes throughout the exchange, a sinister spark in his own that unnerves the man. “Let’s not jump to conclusions so quickly, captain. It’s rather insulting—”

“No,” the captain interrupts. “I know the kind of bounty hunters you are. You spout some noble bullshit to let their guard down, and the moment they turn around, you shoot them. I ain’t gonna fall for that kind of trick, lad.”

At this, Jhin sighs with dramatic flair. “Is that so?” he asks. He looks back up into the captain’s eyes, that sinister look now fully evident on his face. “I’m glad to know this won’t last long, then.” In the blink of an eye, his gun is already in his hand with the hammer already cocked and ready to fire.

Before the man can pull his trigger, he falls by Jhin’s feet, dead. 

The gunshot echoes in the open sea for what seems like forever. 

A wisp of smoke rises from the barrel of Jhin’s gun. As the smoke blows past his face, his eyes scan the captain’s crew and his own. Three to his right. Two to his left. Six in the back. Four around his men. The moment the smoke disappears, he swings to his left and puts another bullet through another’s head. He ducks and rolls to the right, dodging three bullets shot into the door behind him.

His men take cover and shoot the six enemies behind them, as Jhin takes out two others. He reloads his gun and cocks the hammer. He inhales, smelling the aroma of gunpowder mixed with the scent of blood. How delightful, to be able to bask in this moment.

He shoots a man that was too distracted to check the barrels Jhin was hiding behind. One. Leaping over a downed enemy, he shoots another with the grace of a dancer. Two. With a twirl, he snipes one that’s trying to jump overboard. Three.

One more left.

Jhin spots the last remaining enemy, who drops his gun and makes a break for it. He takes a breath and holds his gun towards the back, where the heart is. He can just see the red petals bloom from the man’s chest, like a flower in the dawn.

But before he can pull the trigger, the last man falls from a gunshot to the head. Jhin’s chest tightens, as if he just suffered a great loss. His eyes widen and turn to the crewman who shot the last enemy dead. 

The crewman isn’t aware. He simply sighs in relief that this is all over.

But the other crewmen who understand that look in Jhin’s eyes exchange nervous glances. 

Jhin walks over to the crewman, looming over him eerily with his gun still in hand. The latter takes a noticeable gulp in fear. “So,” he starts, “do you think you can get away with what you just did?”

“Captain, I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes, holding his finger to his mask. “You must understand. No one deprives me of the fourth shot. It just isn’t acceptable.” Before his crewman can respond, he holds the barrel of his gun to his forehead. “I’m afraid I can’t have that happening again.”

“P, please spare me, Captain,” the crewman pleads, tears welling up in his eyes. “It won’t happen again, please. I beg of you.”

Jhin only tuts at his pleas. “You should smile. Everyone is watching,” he whispers before he shoots the fourth shot through the man’s head, sending him toppling overboard into the sea. He peers over the edge, watching the blood seep into the waves like ink on paper. Behind the mask, he smiles in bliss.

The others stand in dreaded silence. They were always careful to not take Jhin’s fourth shots, but there was always one that made a mistake once in a while. And all those who did would die. 

“Well, gentleman. That’s the end of that.” Jhin turns back to the crew, who straighten up immediately. “I’m sure you all remember your oath when you joined this crew. I have stated this as clear as day: Some of you may die, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Yes, captain!” his crew responds.

“Dismissed,” he says. “And clean up the deck. I’m sure the deep sea would appreciate the meal. Once you’re done, we set sail for Zaun.” He glances at the dead captain bleeding out by the door that leads inside the ship. “We have a bounty to collect.” He goes back into his quarters and closes the door behind him.

* * *

The sea seems troubled today. There’s a stir in the sounds of the waves. More than just a ship passing by. A battle, perhaps? Even the fish seem anxious. 

A hand brushes apart the kelp as a figure swims out towards the open sea. Aqua scales shimmer in the sunlight trickling through the surface of the sea, revealing the silhouette of a siren within the deep. Her hair blends with the deep blue sea, tips of green lit by the sunlight. The light reaches a small golden stringed instrument strapped to her hip, glinting dully in the water.

The siren remains still, listening to the sounds in the sea. Her face contorts in bewilderment at the faintest sounds she hears. It sounds like… 

“Blood.” 

The siren turns her head to the voice behind her. A fellow siren, who followed her out the kelp forest, flashes a toothy smile at her, her brows arched mischievously. The former’s brows furrow instead, averting her focus to her sense of smell. Ah, she smells the blood. Fresh blood of humans.

“Guess everyone might have a feast today,” the other comments once more before taking the siren’s hand. “Come on, Sona, we can’t stay out in the open sea for too long.”

Sona sighs, taking one last look towards the scent of blood, and follows the other back into the kelp forest. They swim through the thick stipes into an enclosed area on the sea floor. As they approach, markings on their skin glow a sea green in the dark, providing them light through the dark. Others slowly reveal themselves as they swim closer: her circle of sirens.

“So?” one asks Sona.

Waving her hand and arms around, she gestures the sounds of battle and the scent of blood. She points to the direction they come from. Though the scent of blood is fainter, the sounds still reach her ears. Whatever, or whoever, is throwing corpses into the sea had emerged victorious. 

“Should we check it out?”

“Maybe seduce them into the sea.”

“We haven’t had visitors in these parts in quite a long time, after all.”

Sona suddenly intervenes, waving her arms out to reject the idea. Something tells her the victor of that battle could easily kill them all. It sends shivers down her spine.

“But we don’t want to just sit here while they pass by us. That’s like letting easy prey escape.” The other sirens seem to agree. 

“Sona, if you’re worried, you can sit back for this one. We can bring back something for you.”

“It’d be a shame though. Sona’s music is foolproof in getting humans to fall for our trap.”

Foolproof, yes. But Sona can’t help but wonder if there even are fools on that ship. She chews her nails in thought, her sharp teeth almost biting into the skin. She looks up and starts to sign again, that she will scope the area to make sure it’s safe enough. A little test with her music wouldn’t hurt.

If her music works, then they feast.

But the thought of failure looms over Sona’s mind as she swims out to open sea, heading towards the direction of the ship. She remains cautious, as open waters tend to make it easy to be captured. She sticks closer to the bedrock and pokes her head out the corners.

The scent of blood is getting stronger. The sound of ships bobbing along the waves get louder as well. Sona stops under a rock arch, looking up at the hulls of the ships above. All around her are fresh corpses, all clearly dead. She examines one nearby and brushes aside the corpse’s hair to see a perfect hole in his forehead. A golden glint in the sea floor catches Sona’s eye.

Picking it up, she knows its shape immediately. A bullet. Many merfolks, including sirens, have fallen from these before. It’s another reason to never venture out into open waters alone. She’s heard plenty of nightmares from the few who survived, though they died shortly afterwards.

She traces her finger over the engraving on the metal, an organic design that she doesn’t seem to recognize. But it looks so… elegant. The sound of another body plunging into the ocean tears her eyes away, giving her enough room to evade the sinking corpse. Looking at all the other corpses, she sees most were shot dead by the same bullets. The others that weren’t aren’t shot as cleanly.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

Sona shakes her head and turns to swim back. 

But before she can escape the ship’s shadow, she finds herself tumbling through the sand, her vision spinning with red and white. She grips her shoulder in pain. Her nails dig into the skin, drawing more blood aside from the hole made by a bullet. Blood seeps out of her wound and dissipates above.

Suddenly, she hears people yelling from the ship, and the next thing she knows, she pinned down by a heavy net. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees the golden bullet roll in the sand. She scratches at the net desperately to cut it open but no no avail. 

_ Never stay in open waters for too long. _

The only rule among the merfolk to keep them safe.

_ Lest you become another tale of blood and foam. _

The net wraps around her as it ascends, and she slams downward to force her way out. As the net breaks surface, Sona feels panic and dread pool in her stomach. She holds her instrument close to her chest and stays still as she’s carried onto the deck.

“A real mermaid…” a crewman whispers in awe when they see the face of a woman barely hidden by her hair and the fins of her tail. “Impossible.”

“The sea is full of surprises,” Jhin states. “The stories of merfolks had to come from somewhere.” He crouches to take a look at Sona more clearly. His eyes slightly squint in amusement at Sona’s expression of mixed horror and wariness. It was exactly the look of a cornered animal. “However, this is fascinating. I have never once thought I would one day capture a mermaid.”

Sona hisses at Jhin, managing to swipe at his face and tearing off his mask. The mask clatters across the wooden floor, the entire crew falling silent. A few hold their breath, never having seen Jhin’s mask forcibly ripped off his face before. Her eyes are fixated on the insidious smile on his face. 

“A good aim,” he responds with a raised eyebrow. “You’d certainly make me… quite a fortune, if I sell you.” He chuckles as he stands, but instead, he raises his gun at her. “But you would make such a fine masterpiece. I cannot pass this opportunity.”

No, she can’t die here. She takes a breath to gather her magic at her fingertips. Right as Jhin cocks the hammer and touches the trigger, she plucks the strings of her instrument. Her magic turns the sound into a sharp bolt that knocks the gun out of Jhin’s hands and even slashes the back of his hand. 

Jhin reels back with a hiss as he cradles his hand with the other. “You insolent…!”

Sona hisses again in smug defiance. Two men approach to restrain her, but she starts to play soft, quiet music that lulls them forward in a trance, allowing her to slash their exposed necks. They grip their wounds to stop the blood but end up choking on their own blood. Sona glares at the others, who refuse to come closer should they become the next victims. 

“Music?” Jhin mutters under his breath. Was it just his imagination, or did he hear music come from the mermaid? It takes him a moment, but he realizes this is not a mermaid. “A siren,” he concludes.

“Captain?”

“This one is not a mermaid,” he states louder, “She’s a siren. Get too close, and a single siren can lure sailors with their song to kill several.” At this, the crewmen backs away even farther from Sona, but Jhin approaches closer.

“W-what should we do then, sir? Can’t we just release her?”

Jhin shakes his head in fascination. “No. This one seems... special.” His eyes travel down from her gritted teeth to her neck, catching a glimpse of gold clutched in her hands. He watches her cradle it closer and hide it from his view. “An instrument-wielding siren. You don’t see that everyday.”

Sona breathes heavily, as the lack of water is beginning to take a toll on her body. Fish can’t usually survive out of water, but merfolks like her have a longer timespan to breathe air. But they can’t do it for long, or they too will end up like a fish out of water.

What’s more, she recognizes his language: Ionian. What would Ionians be doing so far out here in Demacia?

“Hghk,” Sona chokes, unable to breathe properly anymore. She starts wheezing, and she only just starts to feel the burning sun on her skin and scales. Her vision blurs and spins; she doesn’t have the strength to swipe at the hands that restrain her. It takes everything she has to keep her instrument in her grasp.

“I think,” Jhin muses out loud, “you would be an excellent addition to this ship.” He bends down to her eye level to show her the gash on the back of his hand. “Whether you like it or not.”

She glares at the man, but a smirk tugs at a corner of her lips, as if daring him to try to break her. It’s only before she falls unconscious that she sees a glimpse of the smile on Jhin’s face turn into an unsatisfied frown.

* * *

When Sona awakes, she finds herself in a dim corner of a wooden room. The water is tinted slightly orange from the sunset. She reaches out to touch a foreign object a few feet in front of her, only to be obstructed by an invisible barrier. Her brows furrow in panic as she starts reaching around. It’s all the same. Swimming above meets the same results as well. 

She’s trapped, just like the stories she’s heard of. This is a ‘tank’.

Her hands bang against the glass. Her nails scratch against it. But the glass is too thick, unbreakable, to make even a dent. She reels her arm back to make one last attempt to break it, but a white flash of pain stops her. Curling in with a hiss, she finds the shoulder she was shot at, bandaged. 

“I have to say, I didn’t think the movement in the water would end up being a siren. I thought that, somehow, one of them survived to tell the tale.  _ Tried  _ to survive, might I add.”

Her head jerks towards the direction of the muffled voice, immediately recognizing it to be the captain’s. Her eyes narrow at the figure that’s barely lit by the setting sun from the porthole.

Jhin sits on the corner of his table, his mask and a glass of wine by his side. His posture seems relaxed despite having his hand injured by her earlier. His gun is nowhere to be found. Seeing Sona’s wary eyes, Jhin chuckles. “My gun is in no condition to use, thanks to you,” he utters the last few words in spite. “Whatever you did, whatever magic you used, cut through the metal.” He clicks his tongue in further annoyance. “It would take days, perhaps even up to a week, to get replacement parts.”

Sona stares at him in deafening silence. There’s just something in the way her eyes seem to… bore a hole through him, like she’s staring deep down into his soul.

“I don’t suppose,” he pauses to reach behind him, “you’re looking for this.” He holds out the golden instrument she was holding prior. He watches her eyes widen in panic as her hands reach for her hip. “You really had an iron grip on this. It took my men forever to pry it out of your claws,” he continues. 

Bastard, Sona thinks. She curses herself for even getting caught in this mess. She was just supposed to scope the ship, but now she knows she stayed too long. This man was perceptive, and she should have left instead of investigating. And now she was stuck on a ship with no way to communicate to her circle. There aren’t any escapes either. She can only hope they don’t come after the ship to save her. Otherwise, they were just as dead as the other pirates that now slumber in the sea.

“Your little instrument is peculiar,” Jhin comments as he plucks a string, only silence following through. No matter how hard he strums, he hears nothing. “Not a single sound.”

Sona only blinks, making no indication of responding to him. She looks around the tank once last time before inaudibly sighing and perches herself on the uneven floor against the glass. She gazes out the porthole that’s placed near her tank. The sea glimmers orange and gold from the sunset as if it’s on fire.

“Giving the cold shoulder, are we?” Jhin asks without looking up, mesmerized by the instrument. “Can’t be that bad, being captured and all. It’s fortunate you’re not dead.”

She turns her head towards him with a mysterious look and turns back to the sea again.

Two can play at that game. Jhin knew it wasn’t going to be easy anyway. He knew plenty ways to get her to talk, even if it meant destroying the treasure he had just obtained. 

But first, his gun took priority. 

A bounty hunter can’t do their job without their tools, after all.

They would arrive at Zaun in 2 weeks. By the time they reach the gates, one of them will have surrendered. Both have no intention of giving in. 

Jhin takes a sip of his wine as he eyes Sona’s reflection in the glass of the porthole. She looks unamused with a hint of exasperation. To keep a siren in a tank in a dim room, he wonders what kind of results would occur. Insanity? Savagery? Agony? Despair? Desperation? The possibilities are endless. 

And he can’t wait to watch how she descends.

Sona’s lower lip slightly juts out in annoyance. At first, she panicked because of the stories she’s heard: merfolk eaten for longer lifespan or immortality, forced into entertainment for other humans, or tortured for their secrets. But seeing that she will be kept alive, she thinks of every plan possible to plot her escape. It seems the captain wants answers she can’t give. 

And she can’t wait to watch him break against her will.


	2. Driven to the Brink

Eyelids flutter open to the moonlight shining through the porthole. The light bounces off the water of the tank, almost as if it's dancing to the sway of the ship. Seeing the moon provides some comfort, if any at all. At least this was better than being damned to rot in the bottom of the ship.

Sona doesn't sigh her woes away, rather admiring the moon for her beauty. Sirens of her kind, despite being native to the dark, have an appreciation of light and warmth. She would often swim up to the surface near caves to sunbathe by the rocks.

A stream of bubbles floats from her lips, not yet a sigh. Being captive was, obviously, quite restricting. Along with the porthole her only means of sight of the outside world, there was nothing else to do. All she did was sit on the sand and rock placed in her tank while glaring at the captain that took her instrument hostage. 

Watching him try to figure out how to make her instrument produce a sound was endless entertainment for her. Though he kept a straight face in her presence, she could hear the tones of frustration and irritation in his words. 

Her hand touches glass as she tries to reach for the moon. Despite the night sky being her only solace, she smiles, for she feels at home even in this moment. 

“Frustrating not being able to escape, isn’t it?” a voice suddenly says in the dark.

Sona fights the urge to roll her eyes and turns to the voice. She sees the captain’s figure looming over his bed and pulling back his sleeves to his elbows. He turns his head slightly to see if Sona has reacted, but there’s nothing from her. Not a single sound. 

What else did he expect?

Jhin stands still for another moment before trudging over to her tank with a chair. He sits with his leg over the other and stares at Sona.

To her, this is rather odd. Her brows irritatedly furrow in question, wondering what he plans to get out of this. Instead of being unnerved, she’s just confused. Just what is this man thinking?

“For a siren, you’re quiet. A peculiar trait.”

She raises a brow, further confused on where this is leading to.

“I’ve read books on creatures of the sea. Several of them,” he starts. “But I have yet to read about a siren that never speaks or sings.” He leans forward, perching his chin atop his crossed hands, curious. “Not to mention, you carry an instrument. There’s no speculation of sirens using instruments in these books.” 

Sona blinks. She doesn’t give an answer. It’s not like she can, anyway. She mirrors Jhin’s pose, her tail bending to the side, and stares back. She feigns interest, but her eyes are clearly mocking him. How far is he willing to talk in the face of mockery, she wonders.

Jhin  _ knows _ she’s mocking him. It’s always the same, every time he interacts with her. She’s constantly provoking him at every opportunity, but he knows the moment he opens that tank (even to kill her), he would lose. He may have a gun, though not Whisper, but creatures of the sea can be faster. The siren would surely claw his neck easily.

“Don’t you have other tricks up your sleeve?” he asks. “The mockery is tedious, and it gets us nowhere.”

She releases a stream of bubbles towards him in response and shrugs. There’s nothing else she can do without her instrument. Silence is her best weapon right now, and gods forbid she doesn’t use it to its full potential. If even sirens can’t withstand a long period of silence, what about humans?

A sigh escapes Jhin, a sign of frustration. He shakes his head. “What’s the use talking to a mute siren?” he mutters to himself. “As if I should have expected anything more.”

Hearing his words, Sona smiles smugly. That’s right. He wasn’t going to get anything from her.

“You’re being moved to the cargo hold tomorrow,” Jhin states aloud as he looks back up. “I can’t keep you here forever, and I’m sure you’d appreciate the bigger space.” He leans back in his chair and purses his lips. “Though it’s much darker and lonelier down there,” he says with a small chuckle at the end.

Her eyes perk up at the words. She tilts her head in curiosity. The ‘cargo hold’? She had never heard of that before. But if the space was bigger, and darker, it would certainly make planning her escape much easier than being trapped in such a small tank in the corner of his room.

“If you think you’ll be able to escape while we’re moving you, don’t get so ahead of yourself,” Jhin says. “You’ll still be trapped inside the tank before we open the lid to transfer you to the other one. Just so I won’t lose any hands, physically and figuratively.” He holds up his hand, where Sona had scratched during their first encounter. The wound appears healed, now a scar in its place. “You’ve made quite the ruckus that day.”

Sona’s smirk grows wider. He deserved it anyway.

After a moment of silence, Jhin stands up and approaches her tank. He relishes in her expression suddenly changing to suspicion. “It’s unfortunate Whisper is still out of commission. I would have loved to carve your skin like a statue and use your scales as decoration. It would’ve been a fantastic piece of art.” He turns around and walks towards his bed.

A chill runs down Sona’s spine. She doesn’t doubt Jhin would have done that to her, had she not ruined his gun. Fear catches at her throat and almost freezes her in place, but she forces it down. She can’t show fear. Her gaze hardens at Jhin’s sleeping figure. 

It feels like an eternity waiting for Jhin fall asleep completely, but once she recognizes the steady rising and falling of his shoulders, she gets to examining her tank. She descends down to the rock she perches on and places her hands on the sides.

Removing the rock from its spot reveals a pit, where she dug at it at any chance she had to get to the bottom of the tank. There had to be rocks or just anything she can use as a weapon. Her efforts prove to be fruitless, as there were only pebbles and pieces of kelp inside. Disappointed, Sona swims up to the top of the tank and observes the latch.

She doesn’t recognize the mechanism of the latch, but that doesn’t stop her. She flattens her palms against the glass and slightly shakes the lid of the tank. She hears a strange rattling sound coming from the latch. It’s loose? She pauses to check on Jhin, who’s still soundly asleep. She nods to herself and keeps shaking the lid, and for a moment, she feels the lid shift aside. She huffs and tries again. She hears the click of a nail head that fell out of the hinge. 

Sona takes a breath and gently presses a hand against the lid, lifting it up just enough to be able to peer outside it. She lowers the lid quietly. 

This is it.

Tomorrow is a chance for her to escape. 

And if she fails, she can at least try to take her instrument back from him.

* * *

She watches the other men stride into Jhin’s room with a cart. She hisses at them when they approach, and they step back in hesitance. But the commands of their captain forces them to overcome their fear and move her tank onto the cart. Though faint and masked by sounds of glass hitting metal, the sound of a loose nail clatters on the wooden floor. She shoots Jhin one last glare before they roll her out of his room.

She’s rolled through hallways until they reach a flight of stairs. Needless to say, the men have a hard time bringing her down, especially since she uses all her might to throw them off balance by swimming into the glass in different directions. 

Jhin observes their struggle from behind. While he’s somewhat entertained by how much of a hard time she’s giving his men, he becomes a little impatient by how long it takes them to take her down a flight of stairs. He sighs. “Two of you hold the tank while we go. We’re close to the hold.”

“Yes, captain.” Two of the men who were standing in front of him move to the sides of the cart to hold the tank still while they move up the stairs. 

The siren doesn’t do anything more to cause any more chaos. But her eyes are fixated on Jhin with a mysteriously knowing look. He can’t tell what she’s thinking, but her stare continues to unnerve him.

Once they arrive to the cargo hold, Sona sees an iron gate in the middle of the deck. More of his men are outside holding it open while a lift awaits them. Realization hits her. She will be living in a bigger tank in a place she  _ can’t escape from _ . It’s not like she knows how to work machinery, or if she can even move it to where she needs it to be. She starts slamming against the glass with even greater intensity. The lid is still unlocked. If she can tilt it just enough… 

A gunshot suddenly freezes her in place, the sound ringing in her ears like a high-pitched squeal. She covers her ears in pain, but then she sees it. A white graze against the glass, barely deep enough so that the glass doesn’t break. Her eyes widen in fear. The bullet grazed her tank right where her throat could have been.

He really could have killed her.

Jhin smiles cruelly at her reaction. Though his gun isn’t as perfect as Whisper, it does the job. He approaches the tank and lowers himself to her level with a triumphant spark in his eye. “When I said you’d be an excellent addition to the crew, I meant it. Whether you’re dead or alive. But keeping you alive has more perks than having you dead.”

Sona keeps her eyes on his. As if she would back down with one little murder attempt. Her furrowed brows suddenly smooth over that she appears expressionless, but it’s there. A scheming intent in her eyes that only Jhin can catch.

Just what is this siren thinking?

They move her onto the lift and descend into the hold. As Sona turns, she spots the tank placed nicely in the middle of the hold, just underneath the gate. Looking around, she doesn’t see any other ways of escape. Piles of crates and barrels surround her, hiding any doors or hatchways, if there are any at all.

She’s trapped for good.

She was doomed to fail from the beginning.

The siren is silent, almost too silent. She’s just floating in her tank as the sailors use the lift to carry her up to the top. The only movement within is her wispy hair moving about. Strands of her hair cover her already lowered head. Her head slightly moves up when the lift comes to a stop. The sailors lower her tank onto the glass and attempt to remove the lid.

Jhin suspects something. For the siren to give up before being dropped into the new tank, it’s too sudden. 

“Hm?” one of the men hums questioningly. “The hinge is loose.”

As the man is about to grab the hinge, the glass lid of Sona’s tank shoots out, a blurred figure of blue and sea green following after. It’s only for a moment, and it’s more than enough. 

Sona bursts out of the tank right above the sailors and right at Jhin’s eye level. 

It happens all too quickly.

Jhin feels a hand clasp around his collar and pull him towards the tank.

His feet lose balance.

At first, his sight is dark and soon opens to a blurry blue. 

There’s a constant pull at his body now, and he can faintly hear his men create a ruckus. He releases a breath of air in the form of bubbles. 

He struggles, and struggles, and struggles. His feet kick at nothing in the water while his hands grab at his collar to prevent choking. 

But he can’t break free.

He feels his lungs filling up with water.

Another splash of water comes from above. There’s another pull at his arm now, and he hears someone yell for him. He then hears a sound like thunder and sees wisps of red in the water. He feels himself sinking for a moment before a hand grabs for him again and pulls him out of the water. 

He’s carried to the lift, where he hurls up all the water he swallowed. His lungs and nostrils flare with searing pain as he coughs violently. He wheezes as he whirls around to see Sona curled up in the water and bleeding from her arm.

She tried to drown him.

She tried to kill him.

It takes him all his self-control to not kill her that instant. He has to stop every muscle in his body not to reach for his gun and shoot her down for good. His eyes meet hers, and in that moment, both of them well up with a desperate rage they know they can’t unleash.

“Lock the tank,” Jhin spits. “And make sure she can’t ever get out.”

She failed. As Sona watches the sailors take Jhin back up to the deck, her face contorts in pain as she sinks to the bottom of the tank.

* * *

Jhin sits in his room, staring out the porthole from his chair. In three days, they will arrive at Piltover, where the ship will be docked while replenishing supplies. Despite knowing he will finally have his gun fixed, he doesn’t feel any satisfaction or anticipation of his arrival there. After all, he feels like he hasn’t even made a dent in the siren’s will yet. He feels he hasn’t gone anywhere.

The incident a few days ago still weighs heavily on his mind. He tips his glass of whiskey in his hand and takes a sip, the liquid burning hot in his throat. 

A loose hinge.

He sighs as his hand tightens around his glass for a moment before relaxing his grip. He sets the glass on the table and stands up from his seat. The corner in which the siren’s tank was placed is now empty, only a small space left that still reminds him of her presence on the ship. He approaches the corner, his eyes immediately spotting the nail by the foot of a dresser. He picks it up.

When did she shake it loose? How did he not notice when they rolled her out that morning? He was there to ensure nothing went wrong too. 

Yet, this one tiny nail was the only oversight that allowed her to nearly kill him.

His hand starts to shake. With a growl, Jhin thrusts the nail into the wall as he slams his fist against it. Her will to remain quiet, her indifference to his actions… her mocking eyes … they were insufferable. He turns his head back to the table, where the siren’s gold instrument stands like a trophy. 

The instrument that failed to produce a sound, no matter what he did. Just like  _ her _ . The siren’s smug grin surfaces to his mind, and he feels something snap. 

The sound of thunder echoes from his room, and it reverberates all the way to the cargo hold, where Sona sleeps. Her eyes snap open, and she bursts up from the sand. She winces at the pain in her shoulder, but she hears the sound of dissonance with that thunder. An all-too-familiar dissonance.

It doesn’t take long until she hears a door slam open in the cargo hold, and it’s not the iron gate above her tank.

“What… did your instrument do to me?” she hears a voice murmur, as if in pain. 

She sees a figure stumble through the darkness. Her eyes squint to focus on the figure. She presses her face against the glass, but it’s not until the figure is a few feet away that she realizes it’s the captain. He has injuries resembling that of blade wounds. And on a ship full of guns, the only thing that could create injuries like that is…

“What have you done to me?!” Jhin exclaims, holding her instrument in his hand as he staggers against the glass. He slides down the tank, gripping his abdomen, his white blouse stained red with his own blood. 

Sona’s eyes widen as she sinks down to Jhin’s level. She bangs her hands against the glass to elicit a response from him, but he isn’t moving. She panics. Her instrument attacked him. She bangs the glass again. She hears him groan in pain. He’s still alive.

“Just… what… are you?” he wheezes. 

The wound doesn’t seem deep from what she sees, but he’s injured at a vital place. She knocks on the glass to get his attention. When he looks up at her, she points at her instrument. She gestures at him to give it to her. 

He only chuckles. “Now why would I do that? I won’t give in to your little game,  _ siren _ ,” he hisses.

Sona gives him a stern look, an expression different from the glares and looks of indifference she’s always given him. She keeps gesturing at him to give her the instrument. She throws up her hands in frustration and places her hands at her abdomen, then carrying her hand away. She then firmly points at her instrument.

“Are you… trying to say you can… do something about this?” he asks between breaths. Seeing her nod insistently, he sighs. “Even… if you can… I doubt I can make it up there.” His words trail off as he falls unconscious.

She gasps when he doesn’t move anymore. No! She balls up her hands and knocks against the glass with full strength. Anything to catch any of his men’s attention.  _ Anything. _ They must have heard the gunshot from earlier. Sooner or later, they have to come looking for him.

And sure enough, one of the men who was standing guard at the deck comes running into the cargo hold. She assumes he had checked the captain’s room and followed the trail of blood. She hurriedly ushers him over to Jhin’s location, pointing at the wound on his abdomen. 

“What the…? Captain!” the sailor calls out, trying to shake him awake. “What did you do?” he asks the siren.

Sona sighs in frustration. She points at the instrument and gestures at the sailor to give it to her.  _ Please, I need it _ , she tries to mouth her words. But her words are overpowered by the commotion of the other sailors who barge into the cargo hold to find Jhin slumped against her tank. She helplessly watches them carry him away back to his room. Their words begin to blend together to the point they’re just unrecognizable muffled sounds to her. 

Please. All she needs is her instrument. Her precious, beloved etwahl. 

No one can hear her. No one can understand her.

A burst of bubbles floats to the top of this prison, nothing but silence coming from within.

* * *

“Fortunately, the wounds weren’t very deep, captain. You’ve already recovered from most of the injuries. Though, the one on your abdomen may take a little longer.”

“I figured as much. Very well. You are dismissed.” Jhin stands up, puts on his coat and mask, and walks past the medic. 

“Where are you going, sir? We’ll be arriving in Piltover within half an hour.”

Jhin stops before his door, staying still for a moment before turning back. “The siren has answers I need.”

“But sir—” The medic suddenly yelps as the barrel of a gun is pointed at his head.

“Do not interfere with my personal matters. It is of no concern to you.”

“Y-yes, captain.” 

“Dismissed,” Jhin repeats once more. He fastens the golden instrument on his belt before he heads out to the cargo hold. But when he arrives at the door of the hold, he freezes in place. His eyes glance at the instrument. Absolutely no signs of distress or even a dent, as if it’s still in mint condition. He suddenly remembers the look of panic the siren had last night when she saw his wounds.

Why did she look like that, he wondered. She had tried to kill him a few days before, did she not?

He sighs and shakes his head of the numerous questions that follow. He enters the hold and spots the siren perched on one of the rocks in the tank, looking up at the sky past the gate, in longing. The sun is shining upon her, her scales shimmering like the ocean itself. She suddenly turns her head towards him, which almost takes him aback, considering he went inside as quietly as possible. For a moment, he swears he saw her sigh in relief.

Sona watches him approach the tank, and she spots her etwahl in his hand. Her eyes perk up in surprise.

“We’ll be arriving to Zaun soon,” Jhin starts, “I won’t have the time to sit down for a cup of tea yet, but I have questions I know only you can answer.” He can’t help but chuckle bitterly. “I doubt you’d actually tell me, given our… interactions… so far.” She shoots him a matter-of-factly look. “That’s why I’ve come here to make a deal,” he states as he holds up her etwahl. 

She raises a brow in curiosity. She slowly swims over to the glass with her arms crossed.

“If you can answer my questions, I will give you your instrument back.” Though, depending on her answer, he could just end up killing her himself. “Is that sufficient?”

Sona takes a moment to think. What kind of questions would he even ask her? It’s not like she can answer him properly. She tries to gesture to him of her freedom.

“Answering my simple questions all for your freedom? Don’t be absurd, siren. I don’t plan to free you until you’ve exhausted your use to me.”

An attempt was made, at least. Though irritated at his last sentence, she accepts the deal. But in exchange, he must only ask her questions that she can answer through nodding or shaking her head. He wonders if she thinks this is just a game to her, but he accepts anyway. 

The ship rocks to a stop, the sailors above the gate rushing to keep the ship in port. “All hands on deck!” one shouts. The ship is now much louder than it usually is, and Sona can hear several voices that don’t belong to any of the captain’s men. 

“Ah, we’ve arrived,” Jhin says. “Perfect timing.” His men come into the cargo hold with a large tarp, bewildering Sona as they rush to cover her tank. “We wouldn’t want anyone stealing you while I’m gone. The people here—rather, the people  _ below _ Piltover—are rather… interesting people. If they spot you, you may end up in a worse position than you are now. We can’t have that now, can we?”

Sona frowns in annoyance.

“It’s too bad. Even if you somehow escaped while I’m gone, the toxins in the water would probably kill you before you even swim out of region limits.”

She’s aware. Piltover and Zaun are known as a major source of danger for all merfolks, after all. The toxins would seep into their skin so slowly that they wouldn’t notice until it’s too late. Those who survive become so malformed both physically and mentally that they wouldn’t be considered a merfolk anymore.

“Why don’t we fulfill that little deal of ours once I’m back, yes?”

Sona huffs out an acknowledging stream of bubbles in response. 

They were both reaching for scraps at this point. 

They were tired of these mind games.

They just want anything,  _ anything _ to keep their sanity at bay.


	3. Crashing Waves

Jhin descends the wooden ramp to the stone docks of Piltover. The stones are cleanly cut and precise, just how these machine-tinkering folks love it. The skyscrapers of Piltover are always a sight, drowning in gold, hextech, and a faint air of superiority. He takes one last look at the city before glancing at the nearest clock tower, its bells tolling eleven. 

There wasn’t much time. The cabal stated they would be sending a messenger with his gun by noon. If he wasn’t there in time, there would be troublesome consequences he wasn’t willing to risk. 

Two hours left. He had to make his way down to Zaun and find the rendezvous point. He swallows a longing sigh when a haggard old man approaches him with a knowing smile. He recognizes the cabal’s mark on the elder’s eye prosthetic. He straightens his back and bows his head.

“Back again, I see,” the old man splutters as he taps his cane by Jhin’s feet. “Y’really have no limitation with the way y’treat our technology, do ye?” He urges Jhin to follow him through the dark alleyways of Piltover.

“On the contrary, elder,” Jhin replies calmly. “It is of the utmost importance that I make sure my gun is well taken care of.” He raises his head to the skies, a mysterious look in his eyes. “It’s just that I had picked up a… stray, and she didn’t seem to take too well to it.”

“Oh gob it,” the elder harrumphs. “What else did y’expect, picking up a stray like that in the sea?” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “I never once took ye fer the type, but whatever y’picked up did quite the damage to yer gun.” After a moment of silence, he asks, “What did y’even pick up, anywho?”

Jhin’s eyes squint, but the elder cannot tell if it’s out of joy or anger. “A feisty and frightening little thing, I assure you.”

“Is that so…” the elder mutters as he takes Jhin deeper into the city, where The Gray of Zaun awaits below. “By the way, y’didn’t run into any trouble coming here, did ye?”

On instinct, his hand hovers over his abdomen but brushes it off like he had touched something filthy. “Not that I’m aware of,” he answers. “Why do you ask?”

The elder cackles quietly. “The sea has quite the terrifying creatures around here, boy. Y’would do well to mind your path when you depart from Piltover.” Before Jhin can ask any further, the elder ushers Jhin into a hexdraulic conveyor. He slaps Jhin’s back as he makes his way inside. “Come now, y’don’t want to be late!”

“Please, elder. I have a sensitive back.” A shame Jhin can’t kill this old man. He’s the only connection between the cabal and the technology of Piltover and Zaun, the middleman, repairman, and analyst of broken weapons. Killing him would send the cabal after Jhin’s head. 

“Someone as young as ye? Y’might as well be one of them Chem-punks ‘round here.” The descender dings, and the door opens up to an alleyway much darker than those of Piltover’s. The streetlamps dimly light the path of cobblestones and bridges ahead. The conveyor creaks as the elder sits on the edge of the doorframe. “I’ll be waiting right here. M’sure you won’t take long.”

Jhin hums a non-committal response as he moves on. The stench of Zaun is sickly as always. The chem-fumes wafting out of the dingy chimneys makes him scoff. How vile. The sooner he gets his gun, the sooner he can get out of this place. 

“Where the spirit of this land goes, her followers are near,” a voice says from the dark. 

“The followers the stem, the spirit the blossom,” Jhin answers back. He turns to the source of the voice. “Do you have what I requested?” he asks. 

“Certainly.” A pair of mechanical hands holding a parcel manifests from the shadows. “To deliver a parcel to the infamous Golden Demon himself, it is quite an honor.” 

There is a moment of silence as Jhin unwraps the parcel and holds his newly-repaired Whisper in his hand. The feeling of metal against the palm of his hand sends shivers down his spine. He gives the grip a little squeeze and sighs longingly. Oh, how he missed Whisper…

“Now, shall we talk business?” the figure speaks up. With a metallic clang, a man covered in mechanical prosthetics steps out of the shadows. “I have a job I would like you to accomplish.”

Jhin simply stares at the man in silence. There’s another beat, and the man begins to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his eye. “I understand you’re a client, and I am not one to question them.” He pauses. “Usually. What could a Chem-Baron such as yourself need an actor such as me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I need power.” He scoffs scornfully. “The only things keep Zaun from falling into chaos are the pillars holding it up: we, the Chem-Barons. Unfortunately, one of these  _ pillars _ has exhausted their use and refuses to step down. What other choice do I have?”

“Interesting,” Jhin can only say. “Normally, I would take up such a request. It would have been a fantastic piece of work, something as organic as a blossom blooming from within its mechanical cage.”

The baron’s face sours at his words and becomes exasperated. “So, will you do it or not?”

“Unfortunately,” he starts as he points his gun towards the baron, earning a small yelp at the cold touch of his gun’s muzzle to his chest, “I cannot comply.”

“W-wait, what are you doing? I can pay you to do this! A-any amount of money you want!” the baron tries to bargain. He dares not move, or else that bullet will go straight through the core of his body and kill him.

Jhin clicks his tongue in disapproval. “You see, the cabal has its own discreet way of disposing of their messengers.” His eyes squint in pure bliss when he sees the look of terror and desperation in whatever untouched flesh the baron has. Such skin tarnished by dull metallic parts… What a shame, really. “You are my client’s aim, baron. And I will make sure that your death is not meaningless but beautifully ornate.”

“As if I would let you, demon,” the baron exclaims as his mechanical body begins to hiss with steam and overlap each other with increasing size and parts, the baron disappearing into the suit. Jhin hops backwards and shoots at the chest, but the metal deflects the bullet off-course without a dent. “You really think I would come out here to meet The Golden Demon without preparations of my own?”

“I can’t say I didn’t expect it. After all, even the side character must put some effort into their performance before the final curtain call.” Jhin hops away when the baron slams a giant mechanical fist onto the cobblestone. He slips away into the shadows before the baron can catch him. 

“Bastard, you think you can hide from me?”

“I prefer the term ‘observing’,” he replies. He studies the structure of the baron’s body, making the calculations and notes necessary to bring the stage to the grand finale. 

“You can find the weak point all you want, but it’s useless! This metal is of the highest grade and can deflect any bullet you shoot at me!”

“Weak point? Oh, no, no.” Jhin’s eyes lock onto the tank pumping chemicals into tubes that weave around the mechanical suit. “What I look for is completely different, baron.” He assembles his gun into a rifle and takes a deep breath. Four shots. He shall free this baron from his rusting cage with his art. He shoots.

A tube shatters at the leg. A sickening green chemical sprays everywhere like a spring shower. 

Another shot, and another tube shatters at the fist. As he thought, the tubes acted like hydraulics as well as a power source. 

The baron’s body creaks into a slow stop, but the baron remains unfazed. “You can stop me, but you’ll have to drag me out of this suit in order to kill me!”

“You seem to lack understanding in your own creation then, baron.” Jhin carefully aims, not at the body but at the gauge tank at the neck of the suit. When the bullet strikes the ring connecting the tank to the neck, a high-pitched hissing noise escapes from the broken tube. Within a few seconds, a pained cry comes from inside. “No matter what and how many walls you construct, there will always be a breaking point.”

The baron screams grow louder as the green chemical empties out from the tank. There’s a loud clang when the baron bursts out of the suit, his flesh and prosthetics practically melting from the acid. He tumbles down the suit and attempts to escape. He hears a dull sound of thunder, and he feels vines of flowers sap away his strength as they constrict around him and the alleyway. The baron’s outstretched arm falls like a tree branch pruned to ensure its healthy and beautiful growth.

Jhin sighs in joy at his work. Or, so he thought it would be the result. 

Odd. He doesn’t feel the bliss he’s always felt with every finale. His brows furrow in confusion, unnerved by this feeling. He only feels… dissatisfaction… and a numb pain coming from the wound in his abdomen, like it’s pulsing against his skin to remind him of its existence. Of the siren’s existence. 

“Even at these brinks of euphoria, that blasted siren continues to pull me back like a tide,” he mutters. He sighs helplessly. He can only wonder why the siren holds this kind of power over him.

“What took y’so long?” the elder asks.

“Just appreciating my work, elder,” Jhin lies. “It was one of my best work yet.”

The elder grunts in amusement. “Sure, whatever get y’going. How’s the gun? Did it do the job?”

“Absolute perfection, if I say so myself.” He tries to ignore the elder’s dissatisfied face at Jhin’s lack of enthusiasm. “Forgive me, I am still caught up in that moment of bliss.”

“Y’always were an oddball, eh? Come. Y’got the job done, so we need to head up top.” The elder pushes Jhin back into the conveyor and ascends beyond The Gray back to Piltover. They watch the murky atmosphere of Zaun turn golden like the setting sun as they approach the top. “Did y’know? This ol’ thing belonged to that Chem-Baron back there.”

For once, Jhin’s brows raise up in surprise as he slightly turns his head to the elder. “I don’t suppose you were my client this time around, elder?” 

The elder taps his cane on the floor of the conveyor at the beat of his cackle. “The baron’s been going ‘round without a goddamn care about the other factions and his own tech!” His cackle slows into a hum. “Did he mention anything ‘bout another Chem-Baron, by any chance?”

“He did.”

“Mm, ain’t it interesting how putting a single idea about themselves into their heads can become so distorted that they become out of touch with their own reality?” the elder says. “The human mind is a fascinating thing.” He shoots Jhin a mysterious look. “Wouldn’t y’agree?”

He doesn’t answer. He feels like he can’t. Jhin feigns an amused chuckle as he turns back to the overview of Piltover. “You are quite the frightening one, elder. I don’t suppose all Piltovans are as mad as you.”

“Not mad,” the elder corrects with a crazed look in his eye. “Just passionate.”

* * *

Sona lies in the bottom of her tank, stretched out atop one of the several rocks they placed on the sand. She listlessly gazes up at the tarp covering the top of the glass. Faint streaks of sunlight filter through from above. Her lips purse into a straight line.

How can these creatures produce such… sounds?

It’s faint, but it’s constantly there like in the back of her head. She presses her palms to her ears and tries to shut out the cries and voices of the merfolk of this region. Even their songs sound so cacophonous. 

_ A new siren. A girl. _

_ She’s not from here. She’s come to our home. _

_ This is her home. _

_ She belongs here. _

_ She belongs here. She belongs here. She belongs here. _

What a dangerous place this is, and yet the landfolk of this region are oblivious to the creatures that they’ve created. And worse, these creatures have caught wind of her presence. They know she’s here. They will come to take her away. To make her one of them.

She hears two of Jhin’s crew, tasked to guard her tank from any intruders, talking to themselves outside of the tank. In an attempt to relieve her mind of the voices, she swims over to the guards and taps the glass gently. They’re cautious, but for good reason. 

One of them glances at the other with a questioning look. The other returns the look with a helpless one as she approaches the tank. “Can we help you?” They watch her point up and slide her hand up to the lower half of her face, as if she’s putting on a mask. “The captain? He’s not back yet, or at least, we haven’t heard anything from the deck yet.”

Sona makes an impatient face and nods. She sits on the sand and leans back against the nearest rock with her arms crossed. 

“Excuse me?” the other guard speaks up. “If you don’t mind, would you like to join our conversation?” Seeing Sona tilt her head in uncertainty and glance up at the deck cautiously, the guard shakes his head. “The captain’s not back yet. I don’t think it’d hurt to try.”

“We’re the more curious of the bunch here,” the first guard joins in. “We’ve never really seen a siren before, or any sea creatures like the merfolk, so we’re really interested in what you see down below.” She shoots an accusatory glance at the other guard. “Unfortunately,  _ some people _ don’t really believe that there are certain creatures in the sea.”

“Listen, I gotta see it to believe it. There aren’t such things as krakens the size of a battleship. I’ll believe that there are krakens the size of smaller ships like ours, sure. Bilgewater ain’t full of crazy folks, so I have no reason  _ not _ to believe them.”

“What!” she exclaims. “You’ll believe them but not me, when I’ve heard those stories from the people who’ve seen it themselves?!”

“They’re just stories!” 

“So you’re saying the Bilgewater folks are fibbing?”

“I didn’t say tha —” A knocking on the glass catches their attention, seeing Sona smile sympathetically. They watch her point to the female guard before nodding. The male guard pales with wide eyes. “Y-you mean they’re real?”

Sona nods. She brushes her hand over the sand and makes an even bigger gesture with her hands, saying there are even bigger and more terrifying creatures in the abyss of the sea. She can’t help but laugh when the other guard pales as well. 

But their conversation is cut short when there’s a commotion from above. The door leading to the cargo hold opens, another crewmember poking his head out the door. “Captain’s here! To your posts!” he whispers urgently.

The two guards scramble away to their posts and wait for Jhin’s arrival. Sona, on the other hand, rolls her eyes and swims to the farthest side of the tank and sits atop the bigger rocks. She waits for that iron door to open. But it never opens. 

Strange. She had expected him to come by with that foolish squint in his eyes as he gazes at his prisoner in amusement. Her shoulders, which she notices had become stiff and tense, relax. No matter. The less he shows his face in front of her, the better.

Suddenly, the iron door to the cargo hold opens, and Sona tenses up again. But instead of Jhin, it’s the same crewmember who had told the guards to be at their posts. “We’ll be heading back out to sea. Captain won’t be coming down here until we’re out of Piltovan borders.

One of the guards furrows her brows in confusion. “Is there a reason why?”

The crewmember grimaces. “We’re being tracked. Someone found out about the siren.”

Immediately, a heavy atmosphere crashes upon those in the cargo hold. Dread pools in Sona’s stomach. She feels like something much worse will occur out at sea. 

The voices of the merfolk that were only whispers in the back of her head just a few minutes suddenly grow in numbers and intensity. She winces at the overwhelming amount of voices and hunches over with her palms against her ears.

_ They’re going. They’re taking our sister! _

_ How dare they take our new sister! _

_ This is her home! _

_ Come back! _

_ She belongs here! _

The voices die into silence as sudden as the next words are uttered altogether in one distorted voice: 

_ We’re coming for you, sister. _

Sona gasps in horror when the voices then spill over like a tsunami in her mind. It’s too loud. It’s too intense. She shoots up to the top of the tank, banging the glass lid and catching the attention of the crewmembers guarding the cargo hold. 

This is about to become a battle. The crewmembers are preparing themselves to fight whoever is tracking them. But she’s not up there to warn them of the creatures in the sea that are coming for the ship. For her.

Jhin had been careful. He had never mentioned the siren directly in his conversation with the elder. But he supposed Zaunites have eyes and ears everywhere, even in Piltover. Zaunites were known for their experimental demeanors. Some are even passionate enough to steal test subjects for their work.

Mercenaries… are likely. The experimenter themselves wouldn’t go out of their way to face an entire ship of pirates. 

He brings out a golden stopwatch from his pockets and opens it up to his eye level. In the reflection of the glass, he spots a ship in the distance that’s slowly sailing in the same direction as them. The ship flies a Piltovan flag, but he can see Zaun’s technology built into the ship. He hums in thought. He had guided the ship towards Freljord, a region that has no need for Piltovan or Zaunite technology.

Even if Piltover wanted to expand their tech to the north, their ship isn’t built to withstand the harsh conditions of Freljord.

A crewmember steps up to the helm and whispers in Jhin’s ear, “Captain, the siren is acting up. We’re not sure what happened. She suddenly swam up to one of the guards trying to say something to her.”

Jhin furrows his brows as he glances at the gate of the cargo hold. What is the siren up to this time? “Do you know what she’s trying to say?” he asks.

“She’s trying to warn us about something. Something in the water? She keeps pointing to herself and then out to the water.” The crewmember looks concerned. “What should we do, sir?”

Something in the water? Pointing to herself… but out there within the sea… 

“Hey, do you hear that?” a crewmember standing by the rails murmurs to another. “It sounds like… singing?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“No, no, I hear it! It sounds like a lullaby my mother used to sing for my brother back home.” The crewmember’s eyes suddenly light up, and he leans over the rails. The crewmember’s eyes glaze over, as if he’s in a trance. “That… sounded like mother.”

“What?”

“That… sounded… like…” the crewmember’s words trail off as he leans closer and closer to hear better. “Mother…!”

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?!” the other shouts as he pulls him back onto deck.

“It’s her! It’s mother! She’s in there, don’t stop me!” the former shouts back in rage, swatting away the latter’s grip. When the other doesn’t lose his grip, he pulls out a dagger from his belt and slices the other’s arm.

“Agh!” The latter releases the former’s shirt in pain, but two other crewmembers pull them both back onto deck. One of them kicks away the dagger and pins down their frantically pleading mate. 

Jhin directs his attention to the commotion happening on deck. Then he hears it. He hears singing coming from the waters. It sounds like an opera. The voices sound muffled, but he thinks he hears them sing of art, of Whisper, of his feats and trophies at sea. That there’s more he can do out there.  _ With them. _

His legs suddenly feel heavy, and he feels his foot swing out towards the side of the ship. His mind feels blank like an empty canvas, and the music of the sea is the paint giving it life. 

“Captain!” another crewmember runs out from inside the ship and up to the helm in a panic. “It’s an ambush! We’ve been surrounded!”

He snaps back to reality with a hiss, having sunken his nails into the injury in his abdomen. “By who? The Zaunites haven’t even reached us yet.”

“They’re no Zaunites, sir! They’re merfolk!”

Jhin’s eyes grow wide. Sirens. He hadn’t considered this. Could the siren he captured have called these sirens here? No, she is mute. She hasn’t displayed a single ability to be able to communicate to anyone so far. He shakes his head. The merfolk have been around for centuries. Each region has their own kind of merfolk.

Piltover, the City of Progress. Zaun, the City of Iron and Glass. With the advancement of technology, there would be an equal amount of waste filtering into the waters. His eyes perk up in realization. The toxins. For the merfolk who lived in these waters for so long, they wouldn’t notice how far the toxins can be carried by the water. Therefore, they would eventually die to the toxins.

Or adapt to them. 

“Prepare yourselves!” Jhin announces. “These creatures can affect any of you to kill you! If you see someone who’s affected, hold them back!” He normally wouldn’t bat an eye if two men or three die, but with enemies coming from both within and out of the waters, he cannot afford to lose that many men at once. “Lookout, keep an eye on that Piltovan ship!” He loads Whisper with four bullets and cocks the hammer. “This show isn’t over yet.”

* * *

The sounds of gunshots and shouting from the deck alerts Sona of the sirens’ arrival, her banging against the glass becoming stronger and louder. The lid refuses to budge. She swings her arms down in frustration and swims over to one of the guards who had spoken to her.

“Miss siren, isn’t there anything you can do?” she asks in a panic. 

Sona nods as points at the lid of her tank. She makes the same gesture to refer to Jhin and then the instrument he had taken.

“Your, your instrument? Can you help if you have it?” When Sona nods firmly, the guard purses her lips in hesitation. She chews the tip of her thumbnail in thought until they hear a metallic clang of the cargo hold’s gate above Sona’s tank. 

As they look up, they watch in horror as one of the crewmember’s body is torn apart by a siren that had managed to jump on board. His blood pours onto the top of the tarp covering Sona’s tank. 

The guard swallows a gag, looking away. “Okay,” she says. She turns back to Sona. “I’ll get you your instrument from his quarters. I, I don’t know if I might make it, but I’ll try.” The guard runs out of the hold, ignoring the other guards’ protests, and makes her way up to the deck. She glances at the helm, the captain now replaced by another hand. 

“What are you doing?” the navigator hisses when she runs past her to Jhin’s quarters. “You’re a dead sailor if he catches you going in there.”

“It’s for the sake of this ship. The siren can help us.” The guard sneaks into Jhin’s quarters and searches the room for the golden instrument. She spots it sitting atop a dresser in the corner of his room, where the siren’s old tank once remained. “There!” Grabbing the instrument and stashing it in her satchel, she runs out of the quarters and back to the deck.

The heavy stench of blood and sea water penetrates her senses as soon as she steps outside. She gags at the sight of dead human  _ and _ siren bodies littered all over deck. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to look away from the scene, and rushes back down to the hold.

“What have you done?” a guard asks when she produces the instrument from her satchel. “Are you insane?”

“If the siren says she can do something about this situation, I’m willing to take that risk,” she protests. “Get the other guards. We need them to take her up to the deck.”

“Captain will kill all of us!”

“Then what else is there left to do?! I went up there, and we’ve already lost so many hands! The sirens are climbing up the deck! We need her!”

A guard extends out an arm to stop her from climbing up the stairs. “Some of us don’t want to die because of what you did, don’t you understand that?”

“Would you rather all of us die then?” she asks solemnly. The others fall silent. “And if the captain’s more than willing to kill us after all this, then so be it. He’s only losing more of his crew. I’m still going,” she insists urgently. She lunges up the steps to the top of the tank and unlatches the lid. Sona immediately bursts of the water towards the guard, who shields herself thinking she made a mistake of freeing the siren.

But nothing happens. 

Instead, Sona is hunched over the edge with her instrument finally in her hands. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the cowering guard with a grateful smile.  _ “Thank you _ ,” a voice says with a pluck of the strings. 

The guard’s eyes widen for a moment, but she regains her composure. “Y-you’re welcome.” She leans forward and hovers her hands over Sona’s shoulders. “We can carry you up to the deck.” Her heart nearly leaps to her throat when Sona suddenly grabs her wrist while shaking her head and pointing her finger at the guard’s forehead.

Jhin will kill her. All of them. 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” The guard tucks her arms under Sona’s and lifts her out of the tank. “Come on, we need to get you up there.” One by one, the guards in the hold come up to help her carry Sona down the stairs onto a stretcher. “I thought you didn’t want to get killed by captain?”

“Better than all of us dying to these things… or worse, getting taken for torture and experimentation in Zaun,” a guard mutters, to which the others chime in agreement. 

As they reach closer to deck, the female guard speaks up. “We have enough of us to hold her while joining in the fight. There’s a chance the Zaunites will try to take her too. Two of us need to hold the stretcher while the rest of you surround it and fight whoever tries to come after us, got it?”

“Got it. Ready?” The crewmembers crouch to prepare to run out to the deck. Sona sits up on the stretcher with her instrument at the ready. 

“Charge!”


End file.
